Uncle Neil cocked an eyebrow at Catherine. “Your car has headlights, doesn’t it?”
“Well, yes, of course, but I just don’t want to get lost again. We don’t know these roads very well. Plus, our mother is expecting us home tonight.”
The reference to my mother piqued Carla’s interest. “Could you call her from Marie’s house? I’d love to meet her officially, even if it’s over the phone.”
“Fantastic idea, Carla,” said Marie, smiling as if they had rehearsed the conversation beforehand.
“No. We can’t,” said Catherine. “As I said, we have to go. Thanks and all, but goodbye.”
As far as Catherine was concerned, the others didn’t exist. There was no reason to stick around and learn about their inconsequential lives. She knew our father particularly well, arguably better than anyone else, and she didn’t want his memory to be tarnished. I had a hard time believing Carla’s claim as well, that strange children with my father’s looks and quirks were out walking, talking, and carrying on lives of their own. I couldn’t stop thinking about how it all sounded like a bad episode of The Twilight Zone. I had friends in school whose parents were divorced and later remarried into other families with children, but I had never heard of anything quite like this.
Catherine hooked her arm in mine and subtly dragged me down the hill like a child.
“Wait a second, Catherine,” I said as we stepped onto the path that led to the front gate. “If we’re already here, wouldn’t it be easier to stay?”
“Not now,” she hissed.
Not wanting to be rude, I waved back at the group as we neared the gate. Catherine and I circled the brick maintenance building and arrived back at our parked orange hatchback. Her hands were trembling as she struggled to slide the key into the door, and she only started to vent once we were safely inside.
“Holy shit!” she shouted, turning the ignition so hard that the car’s engine made a grinding noise. “I knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought, that somebody would show up peddling bullshit.”
“Are we really leaving?”
“Hell yes we are. Did you actually think we’d stay here for the weekend?” She adjusted the rearview mirror and started backing the car out.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It just seems—”
“That’s enough, Ian!” she shouted. “We need to get the hell out of here and that’s it.” She craned her head out the window to ensure we had enough room to pull out. “And not a word of this to Mom.”
The parking lot was narrow and Catherine needed to do a U-turn. She rode the edge of the pavement as we circled and tore past the cemetery gate. Neil, Marie, and Carla had reached the parking lot. They halfheartedly nodded at me as we passed and I returned the gesture through the passenger window. Our wheels skidded a bit and Catherine accelerated harder. We left the old high school in a blur, across the parking lot, and spotted the Main Street intersection. From there we’d backtrack through the poorly marked country roads and merge onto the highway toward Wellbourne. Within a few hours we’d be home and nothing would stand in our way, but then our tire burst and the car leaned heavily to one side. Catherine slammed on the brakes.
“What the hell?” she said, opening her door to investigate.
I got out as well. Not that I knew anything about cars, but I thought it was the right thing to do. Catherine left the engine running and hot exhaust floated around the car like fog, a rank odor reminding me of waiting for an order at a drive-thru. We both peered under the driver’s-side door. Only rubber shards remained where our tire used to be. Large hunks of black rubber were scattered behind us, a path which led a concerned-looking Uncle Neil straight our way.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Catherine said, clenching her jaw as she saw him approach. “Let me do the talking. Whatever happens, we aren’t staying!”
“Hey! Are you two all right? I heard a loud bang. Is everyone okay?” called out Neil.
Catherine waved dismissively. “It’s fine, we’re just fine, don’t worry about us.”
In no time he was standing beside us, out of breath and inspecting the car like old know-it-all men do. He wasn’t in very good physical shape. He put a hand on the car hood, groaned, and eased himself onto one knee to study the damage.
“Yup, yup, the tire is blown. If it was just a leak you could’ve patched it up and driven home by now, but you’ll be needing a brand-new tire,” he said.
“I can certainly see that,” Catherine said. “We’ll be fine, Neil, don’t let us keep you, if you have someplace else to be. Just tell me where we can go for a new tire.”
“Not safe to drive on the donut, not safe at all. Do you have some kind of roadside service?”
Catherine ignored him.
“There’s only one place in town. Chuck’s Tires,” he said, looking at his black digital watch, waterproof up to eight hundred meters. “But Chuck closes at five and it’s quarter till. You’ll have to wait until the morning.”
“Seriously? There’s no place else that sells tires?”
“Not anywhere within fifty square miles. You’ll have to stay the night.”
Catherine punted a hunk of rubber across the road into the grass. She relocated to the curb, pondering what to do next.
Uncle Neil decided to change his tack and he turned toward me. “Ian, listen, you two can stay the night. I know your sister has her heart set on getting back to Wellbourne tonight, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.” He talked past Catherine as if she wasn’t there. “You two can get that tire changed tomorrow morning and be on your way.”
Catherine glared at me in a panic because the decision was now in my hands. She had likely concocted an elaborate story about why the answer had to be no, but the choice was no longer hers. I wanted to tell her we had no choice, but nothing upset her more than not getting her own way. I couldn’t tell for sure, because she stood by the curb, but she appeared to be mouthing No to me. I shrugged.
“Sure, we’d be happy to stay,” I said, beaming.
Catherine dropped her face into her hands. She’d be furious at me, but we had no choice. I understood her side, I really did.
CHAPTER 3
CATHERINE WATCHED AS NEIL AND I carefully pushed the orange hatchback into a parking space facing the high school’s main entrance. She sighed and shifted her weight from one hip to the other, crossing her arms and then dropping them to her sides. Neil and I ripped off the extra hunks of rubber from the wheel well, revealing the car’s skeletal metallic undercarriage. Using a rather small jack we attached the donut tire to keep the car as level as possible. In the meantime it would sit alone in the lot, which neither of us were too worried about in a small town like New Brimfield. Once the car situation was settled, we followed Uncle Neil.
He drove a Cadillac. Right on the cusp of being considered an antique, the Cadillac was aged but didn’t possess the hip vintage style so beloved by car enthusiasts. He shuffled us over and unlocked the front door with a long silver key. The car had no power locks and he awkwardly bent over the passenger seat and pulled up the lock knob, breathing heavily and grunting with each movement. The Cadillac was dark purple with a white rubber top—although it wasn’t a convertible—and the rims were twisted shiny spokes like a brand-new bicycle. I wanted to improve Catherine’s mood so I gave her the front seat, yanking the lever near the floor and pushing the seat forward so I could squeeze myself into the back. Catherine sat down and immediately pulled the seat belt across her chest and clicked it into the buckle. I struggled to find the belts in the back. There were no shoulder straps and the buckles had slipped down the cushion